


Perfect Vision

by RoLo_Renegade



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Fluffy Fluffums of Fluffitude, Go Ahead Say That Five Times Fast, I'm back to writing fluff, Supercat Fluff, danvers sisters fluff, supercat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 11:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12886464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoLo_Renegade/pseuds/RoLo_Renegade
Summary: When Kara first goes to work for Cat, she doesn't understand why the CEO needs so many pairs of reading glasses. How quickly she learns the answer...and so much more...





	Perfect Vision

_“Vision is the art of seeing what is invisible to others.”_

—Jonathan Swift

 

It made no sense. As she stood in front of her new boss’s desk on her first full day as Cat Grant’s personal assistant, this was the only thought drowning out all else—even her fear.

She simply couldn’t tear her eyes away from the row of reading glasses: six pairs of cat’s eye frames, lined up along the edge of Cat’s desk blotter.

Six pairs of glasses. For one person.

And then, at the end of what would go down as one of the most harrowing days she would ever experience (even with what was looming on her heroic horizon), she stood on the opposite side of Cat’s desk once more. She listened carefully as Cat ran through the litany of things she had done incorrectly, not yet versed at all in being able to hear the satisfaction beneath the criticism. She took more notes (to go along with the copious notes she’d taken all day long). She nodded often, uttered “Yes, Ms. Grant,” even more.

She forced herself to maintain eye contact, just as she had during the elaborate explanation at lunchtime regarding why the CEO of the most influential media company on the planet would not now or ever consume Chipotle for lunch (which included reasons that seemed to make Cat prescient on top of all else).

She fought back the emotions each scathing word threatened to draw to the surface, because Cat Grant had _rules,_ and she would not mar her first full day as Cat’s personal assistant by breaking every single one of those rules—by breaking the most important of those rules.

She would stammer. She would scurry. She would stumble with her words and bumble her good intentions, but she would not cry. Later, she would wonder if that had been her sole saving grace that first day.

As she finally left for home, however, emotionally exhausted but somehow also elated, all she could think about was the line of cat’s eye frames on Cat’s desk.

 _Four_ pairs of glasses.

The image remained with her throughout the rest of the evening, as she and Alex celebrated her first full day as personal assistant to the Queen of All Media with pizza and cartons of ice cream that Alex subtly let Kara devour mostly on her own. She thought about it as she said good night to her sister and got ready for bed.

She focused on it as she ignored the sound of sirens a mere two blocks over or the yells of fire fighters trying to gain control over an apartment fire she could see even without using her X-ray vision. She simply closed her eyes and rolled over, forcing herself to think about those four sets of glasses as she mentally reviewed all of Cat’s corrections and notes until finally falling asleep.

When she woke up the next morning, she envisioned that line of glasses as she showered and prepared for her second day as Cat Grant’s personal assistant. She pictured it in her mind as she stood in line for Cat’s latte. She mentally counted the number of glasses until she found herself standing in front of Cat’s desk and actually counting them.

Four.

Setting down the Noonan’s coffee she already knew she would need to re-heat, Kara glanced back toward the bullpen. Being exceptionally early, she realized she was practically alone on the floor. Turning back to face Cat’s desk, she wrapped her fingers around the temple of her glasses.

She hesitated briefly, words long ago programmed into her brain clanging their pervasive warning through her thoughts. Sighing, she finally slipped her glasses down her nose and began to scan Cat’s desk until she caught sight of a pair of glasses, hidden amidst a stack of papers. With a delighted squeak, she retrieved the fifth pair of glasses, adding them back to the line-up and re-stacking the papers Cat would no doubt return to reviewing that morning.

She needed to rotate slightly to locate the final missing pair of glasses, this time tucked between the cushions of one of the couches near the entrance to Cat’s office. Quickly retrieving those as well, she made certain each set of glasses was clean and arranged perfectly along the edge of Cat’s desk blotter.

An hour later, she scurried into the office three steps behind Cat and armed with her tablet and notepad, nodding and agreeing that CatCo-branded hand sanitizer was a fantastic marketing idea for the upcoming cold and flu season. She couldn’t help the shy satisfied smile that surfaced at the sight of Cat pausing in her first diatribe of the day long enough to count the number of glasses and hum approvingly at the reappearance of her previously missing two pairs.

It was the first approval Kara earned from Cat—the first time Kara succeeded in surprising the CEO in a manner that didn’t lead to a new diatribe or more corrections. It was the first time Kara felt as if it just might be possible for her to learn how to anticipate Cat’s needs, maybe even please her.

The subtle hitch of Cat’s eyebrows was enough to warn her that the flush this final thought conjured was actually visible. Hastily clearing her throat, she launched into reciting Cat’s schedule for the day. She marked adjustments as the CEO made them and breathed in relief when she finally exited the office, feeling far less verbally bludgeoned than she had felt the day before.

So it went that first year as Kara hustled and stumbled but always managed to rise once more with a “Yes, Ms. Grant,” and the perpetual smile she knew Cat at first doubted as anything sincere, because how could anyone truly sustain that level of happiness all the time?

Yet, the smile persisted, every day, as bright as Kara’s wardrobe, as consistent as the temperature of Cat’s lattes, which Kara had _finally_ perfected. If that meant Kara once more bent her “no powers” rule to secure yet another of those rarely rewarded hums of approval from the CEO, then so be it. It was, for Kara, a justifiable allowance (so long as no one ever actually asked her for her justification).

And then Flight 237 bound for Geneva flamed across the night sky, threatening to take Kara’s whole world from her a second time.

Rules ceased to exist.

By the end of the evening, Kara had lost several things—her forgettable date, her favorite jacket, her fear of using her powers—but had succeeded in saving the one part of her life more important than any other. Her heart. Her home.

The fact that she also inadvertently saved the _National City Tribune_ from any layoffs was an unanticipated bonus—as was Cat’s response to “the most incredible event in the history of National City.”

“The answer.”

“Exactly what _I_ need.”

_Supergirl._

It wasn’t even that Kara objected that vehemently to the name (although perhaps she was slightly more amenable to it since it did come from Cat). Instead, it was the way Cat spoke about the hero, the way she looked at the hero, the way she _claimed_ the hero—in all the ways that made Kara uncomfortable for reasons she refused to consider.

True, Cat still applied her critical eye to Supergirl. She still pushed her to improve, still demanded excellence, still motivated through all the means she had in her admittedly impressive linguistic arsenal. But there was also something _more_ in how she was around the hero _—_ in the looseness of her limbs, the sway of her hips, her conversational ease and her generous smiles.

Kara knew the difference between persona and person well enough when it came to Cat. She knew which one she saw as Kara Danvers and which one she saw as Supergirl.

She knew which version of herself she envied more.

In the office, she remained _Kiera_. She performed her duties with all due diligence and alacrity. She worked late, arrived early, and Super-sped her way through as much as she could to maintain the veneer of normalcy under which she hid her new responsibilities.

Every evening when she said good night to Cat, she tallied the number of cat’s eye frames left on the CEO’s desk. Every morning, she rounded up the stragglers, giving them a dutiful cleaning and setting them in line to await their next adventure.

Only now, she found herself steadily expanding her search parameters—not just through the entire office and private en suite but also the CEO’s balcony. She initially chalked this up to the increased frequency of times she’d stopped to chat with Cat while passing by during her evening patrols. However, even on nights when the hero wasn’t able to pass by CatCo, she would inevitably find a pair of Cat’s glasses outside.

The locations continued to expand and admittedly grow more and more bizzare—until the morning Kara located a pair in a place she could not logically explain away, no matter how hard she tried.

And, oh, did she try.

“Okay, spill.”

Kara’s head snapped around at the unexpected command. “Spill what?”

She watched as Alex flopped down beside her, careful not to bang into her immovable sister. “You’ve been staring _past_ the TV all evening. I bet you can’t tell me one thing about any of the episodes we’ve watched tonight.”

Even as she felt the embarrassment of Alex’s accurate accusation creep through her cheeks, Kara defiantly crossed her arms and declared, “Don’t fuck with Red.”

The comment—not to mention the out-of-character profanity from her normally reserved sister—broke Alex’s focus enough to trade suspicion for laughter. She nudged the hero in her arm. “Language, Supergirl.”

She chuckled at the way her sister bowed her head and tucked her chin against her chest. “Sounds like Cat Grant is starting to wear off on you.”

Kara’s playful smile quickly morphed into a worried frown. “Okay.” The brunette reached over and cupped Kara’s chin, pressing up enough to inform her sister she expected eye contact. At the acquiescent response, brown eyes locked with blue. “What’s Cat done or said this time?”

The hero swallowed nervously and Alex was startled by the sheen of tears she saw spread across Kara’s gaze. “I-I think there might be something wrong with her, Alex.”

Alex flinched at the unexpectedly serious response. “What do you mean? You think she’s sick?”

After a moment of thought, powerful shoulders finally hitched once in frustration. “I don’t know. But she’s—she’s doing weird things around the office.”

Suddenly all in, Alex pivoted where she sat and crossed her legs beneath her so she was fully facing her sister. “What kind of weird things?”

Pulling a pillow into her lap, Kara immediately began fidgeting with the fringe along the edges. “It’s—I guess it’s really only one weird thing. But it is definitely weird—and I can’t come up with any logical explanation.” She hugged the pillow tightly against her chest. “It’s her reading glasses.”

Alex couldn’t resist the surprised snort at Kara’s statement. “Her what now?”

“Her reading glasses,” the hero reiterated, already knowing how ridiculous the response sounded. “One of the things I do for her every morning before she gets in is collect her reading glasses from all the places she left them throughout the previous day. It used to be normal places like the coffee table or in between the couch cushions or next to her decanters.”

The crinkle on her forehead deepened. “Lately, though, I’ve been finding them in increasingly bizarre places, like _in_ the mini-fridge or buried in one of the drawers of her credenza with her chopsticks—or-or stuck in one of the plant pots on her balcony!”

She bowed her head once more, fingers now completely tangled in the pillow’s fringe. “This morning, I found a pair hanging from the mounting bracket of one of the monitors behind her desk.”

When she looked up to meet Alex’s gaze, the sheen of tears had once more returned. “I’ve been trying all day to come up with a-a _normal_ explanation for why they would have been there, but I can’t. And to make it all worse, Cat was gone all day at some presentation, so I couldn’t even observe her throughout the day for other signs of—of whatever it is I should be looking for right now!”

With a mournful sigh, she finished, “What am I supposed to do, Alex?”

Alex stared with the resigned expression she reserved for Kara’s more innocent moments of misunderstanding. “Kara,” she began, her voice slipping into that tone her sister knew meant she was about to drop some obvious truth on the Kryptonian in as kind a way as possible. “Cat knows.”

The brunette waited, her expression restrained but kind. Kara stared for several increasingly unnerving beats, her expression showing her struggle to translate Alex’s explanation. Finally, she began to shake her head. “No, that’s—no way, Alex! Cat doesn’t know!”

Hearing the fabric of the pillow beginning to rip apart, Alex set her hands atop her sister’s, gripping them with enough pressure to still her movements and refocus her attention. When she saw Kara’s gaze return to hers, she offered a calming smile. “Kara, Cat knows.”

Seeing the argumentative panic rising once more in her sister’s expression, she pressed ahead. “Tell me when you started finding Cat’s glasses in unexpected places.”

With a nervous frown, Kara considered her sister’s request. “I guess—I guess some time after her first Supergirl article.”

Threading her fingers with her sister’s, Alex tugged to let Kara know she wanted her to move closer. The hero scooted close enough for Alex to wrap herself around Kara—the perfect complement to the hero’s sturdy form.

With a kiss to her sister’s temple, Alex cuddled her tightly and sighed, “It was bound to happen, Kara. She’s built an international business on her reputation as a successful investigative journalist.”

“But I’ve done everything I could to keep her from figuring it out.” The agitation in her sister’s tone made Alex hug her even more tightly.

“I know. But Cat is—she’s _Cat_ ,” she finally settled on, relieved to see Kara nod slightly in acquiescence. “It was just a matter of time, really.”

The brunette let silence settle, content to feel Kara lean into her embrace as much as she knew Alex could withstand. However, after a few moments of contemplation, the hero shifted and shot her sister a questioning glare.

“Wait, why aren’t you way more upset about this?” She sat upright, her glare deepening. “If you’re right, Alex, that means Cat Grant—the freaking Queen of All Media—knows I’m Supergirl!”

“Yes,” she calmly agreed, much to Kara’s annoyance. “And the worst thing she’s doing with that information is teasing you.” She swept a blonde curl behind her sister’s ear. “She could have pressed you for confirmation. She could have fired you or blackmailed you. Or she could have just gone ahead and published an article that outed you, ethics be damned.” With a lopsided grin, she finished, “Instead, she’s playing a really bizarre game of Cat and Super Mouse with you.”

Kara flopped back into Alex’s embrace with a dramatic groan. “You know your puns are terrible, right?” She warmed at the feel of Alex snickering beside her. Resting her head against her sister’s shoulder, she sighed. “So what am I supposed to do now?”

“Well.” Something in how Alex elongated the word discomfited Kara in a way she didn’t really want to consider. “What do _you_ want to do with this information?”

“Not talk about it anymore,” she quickly replied as she started to pull away from Alex.

The brunette wrapped her arms more tightly around her sister’s shoulders and shifted backward, knowing there was no possible way she could actually move Kara. However, the feel of Kara acquiescing and toppling back against her with a pouty “Alex!” drew a playful laugh and sigh of relief from the older Danvers sister.

“Come on, Kara!” She nudged her knee against her sister’s side. “It’s so obvious you want more than just a professional relationship with Cat, and,” she quickly continued before Kara could protest, “she clearly has some kind of interest in you if she’s—whatever it is she’s doing.”

With a surprisingly annoyed huff, Kara rejoined, “She’s interested in _her_ , not me.”

“Her?” Alex frowned at the odd distinction.

“Supergirl. _Not_ Kara Danvers.” The pillow finally surrendered beneath Kara’s grip, splitting loudly down the middle before she threw it over the back of the couch with a frustrated growl.

“Kara, you almost sound jealous of _yourself_.”

“Maybe—maybe I am.” Catching the furrow of concern in her sister’s expression, she continued, “You said it yourself, Alex: Cat doesn’t give a rip about her assistant. She respects Supergirl. She barely sees me.”

“Okay, I did say that,” the brunette conceded. “But I don’t think it’s true anymore.” At the incredulous snort from her sister, Alex shook her head. “I don’t! It’s not Supergirl Cat is playing this game with. It’s you. She’s trying to let you know how well she sees you, Kara.” Rolling her eyes in exaggerated exasperation, she chided, ”I mean, for god’s sake, she’s even using eyeglasses to get her message across! Talk about terrible puns!”

She lunged forward for a massive bear hug, catching Kara completely by surprise. As the hero shifted to soften her impact on Alex, she tumbled backward, laughing the entire time. Alex glared down at her playfully. Still laughing, Kara’s gaze slowly lit with the more hopeful shine her sister loved to see. “Do you really think so?”

“Do I think Cat’s as terrible at puns as me? Yes. Absolutely. Hands-down. She might be great at lots of things, but she can’t be perfe—”

The brunette squeaked in surprise as Kara spun them up off the couch and hovered just high enough to make Alex aware she was definitely no longer in charge of the situation. Clinging to her sister so she didn’t slip down with a graceless flop, Alex glared at the hero. “You’ve always been a brat when it comes to being teased.”

The glare melted under the beaming smile that crinkled the edges of Kara’s eyes. “So stop doing it,” she countered before settling them back onto the sofa once more.

Punching Kara’s shoulder and instantly grunting in pain, Alex once more drew her legs up under her and faced her sister. Tilting her head slightly to the side, she offered an appeasing smile at the sight of Kara’s worry returning once more. She reached out and gently smoothed the crinkle forming between her sister’s eyes. “Cat sees _you_. So now the question is, what are you going to do about it?”

Kara opened her mouth only to let it click shut almost instantly when she realized she had absolutely no idea how to respond. Chuckling at the sight of her sister’s sweet confusion, Alex leaned forward and kissed her temple. “You’ll figure it all out in due time, Supergirl.”

Due time arrived bright and early the next morning, regardless of whether or not Kara had figured anything out (which she had not, much to her great frustration). After welcoming the CEO back to the office and handing over her standard piping hot latte, she fell in step behind the CEO, rattling off that morning’s schedule with her usual effervescence and precision. When she reached the end of Cat’s schedule, she looked up, stunned at how she’d reached that point without any interruption.

What stunned her even more was the sight of Cat, standing behind her desk, seemingly frozen in mid-movement. The hand that held her latte hovered inches above her desk, and her eyes stared intently at the line of glasses on her blotter.

Six pairs of glasses.

“Ms. Grant?”

With a subtle upward shift of her eyes, the CEO pinned her assistant in place with a _sanpaku_ stare that just as quickly disappeared as she narrowed her gaze. “Yes, Kiera?”

Forcing herself not to fidget, she stammered, “Are-are you all right?” Her gaze flitted down to the still-suspended cup and back up, flinching at the unexpected hardness of Cat’s expression. “Is something wrong with your latte?”

The CEO finally set down her cup before descending into her chair. Ignoring Kara’s query, she instead stated, “Cancel my nine thirty and move my eleven o’clock up to fill the vacancy.” She pulled a folder from her top drawer, dropping it open on her desk. “I’d like my regular order from Nozomi for lunch, and let all the division heads know I expect final copy for the next _CatCo_ magazine by no later than four.”

“Of course, Ms. Grant. Will you need anything else?”

Without breaking eye contact, the CEO plucked a pair of glasses from her desk and slid them on. Kara’s lips parted at the realization that she’d chosen the mauve-colored frames—the only non-black frames in her regular office rotation.

The frames Kara had found hanging from the mounting bracket the day before.

“I think that will be all for now, Kiera.”

When she immediately turned her attention toward the folder in front of her, Kara nodded uselessly while backing out the office. By the time she reached her desk, she could feel her heart slamming fiercely against her rib cage.

“Hey, Kara, are you all right?”

The hero shifted her wide-eyed gaze toward Winn, who was rising from his chair, worry etched across his features. He approached cautiously, his eyes constantly scanning her for some cause for the slightly panicked, slightly nauseous expression on her face.

Lowering his voice, he asked, “You look ill. Are you ill? Do—do we need to contact Alex? Like, are you having some kind of-of Kryptonian health emergency or something?” He blanched at the thought, looking over his shoulder for James and calculating in his head how much it would hurt if Kara collapsed on him.

Realizing how freaked out her behavior was making her friend, Kara firmed her stance and breathed deeply several times to calm herself. She forced a thoroughly unconvincing smile while adjusting her glasses. “I’m—I’m okay, Winn. I just—I missed one of my breakfasts this morning.”

Understanding instantly lit the techie’s eyes and he hurried back to his desk, grabbing the open pack of Red Vines he always kept in his top drawer. He thrust the pack into Kara’s hands, his smile full and teasing. “But you ate the other four, right?”

A genuine chuckle tumbled from her at the comment. “Yeah, I did,” and she took two of the Red Vines for good measure. The techie smiled at her improved spirits and returned to his desk.

As she turned to take her seat, she froze. Cat stared directly at her, glasses now held aloft in one hand. When she was certain she’d caught Kara’s attention, she arched one brow while spinning the glasses by one temple. Kara swallowed, tongue dry as sandpaper, at the clear challenge in the CEO’s gaze.

_Game. On._

By the time she finally made it to her desk chair, she was certain she actually _was_ having some kind of Kryptonian health emergency.

A massive malfunction with the _Trib’s_ offset printing press that afternoon followed by a twelve-car pile-up right at the beginning of rush-hour were enough to break Kara out of the steady spiral of panic she found herself in most of the day. Landing back on CatCo Tower’s helipad before the CatCopter could beat her to the office, she swiftly changed back into her civilian clothes and flew down the stairwell to the entrance to the fortieth floor.

She found Cat still in her office, swiveled in her desk chair toward her wall of monitors and watching CCN coverage of Supergirl’s highway heroics. Somehow, however, she knew the moment Kara had returned. “Kiera!”

The hero practically lifted off the ground in her hurry to respond. As she came to a halt next to Cat’s desk, she fidgeted with her glasses one final time and smoothed back her hastily redone ponytail. “Yes, Ms. Grant?”

“Would you bring me a whiskey?”

Somewhat taken aback by the request rather than the usual dictation, she stumbled slightly in her response. “Of—of course, Ms. Grant. The Dalmore or the Macallan?”

Without turning from the screens, she flicked her fingers distractedly. “Surprise me, Kiera.”

Preferring the spicy aroma of the Dalmore to the smokiness of the Macallan, Kara poured a healthy two fingers, neat, for the CEO. Grabbing a coaster, she carefully carried both back around the desk. She set the coaster down and slipped the glass into the hand Cat had poised in waiting.

It wasn’t until the news coverage cut to commercial that Cat finally took a sip. Kara heard the hum of approval, _felt_ it in ways she was finding both pleasing and disruptive.

“I prefer the Dalmore, too,” the CEO sighed contentedly as she swiveled back around to face her desk. However, when she looked up into Kara’s face, the hero fought against another flinch at the return of that morning’s hard glare.

Setting down her tumbler with slightly too much force, she picked up the stack of copy she had been reviewing before Kara had left on Super duty. “You’ve had a long day, Kiera. You should go home.”

Uncertainty froze her in place. “I don’t mind staying.” She gestured toward the stack of papers and the tumbler. “I mean, it looks like you’re settling in for a long night—”

“—which doesn’t mean you need to lose your evening as well.” The words were clipped but lacked any true sting. “You did well with the _Tribune_ issue today. You deserve an evening of—whatever it is you do when you aren’t flying around here, trying to predict my next need.”

The nervous laughter that escaped Kara drew Cat’s gaze once more her way. When she looked into her assistant’s face again, however, she sighed vigorously. Snatching the hand sanitizer from her desk and a tissue from her top drawer, she rose from her chair.

Before Kara could react, the CEO was rubbing sanitizer against her cheek and wiping it away with the tissue. When she drew back her hand, Kara saw the dark smudges on the tissue. Eyes widened comically behind her glasses as she fumbled to come up with words to explain away what had just happened.

Once more, she found herself cursing the fact that Alex continued to focus on physical training but had yet to teach her the more practical art of on-the-fly verbal protection—something the already nearly invincible Kryptonian would find far more useful on most days, considering for whom she worked.

Crumpling the tissue, Cat flicked it into the trash and sank once more into her chair. “Makes me wonder if you didn’t crawl into the printing press and fix it yourself, Kiera.”

And with one line, Cat smoothly served her the lie she failed so spectacularly at finding on her own. The twitch at the corner of the CEO’s eye when she finished speaking was nearly unnoticeable.

With a sheepish grin, she wiped at the spot Cat had just cleaned. “Thank you,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “Have a good evening, Ms. Grant.”

At the responding hum, Kara turned to leave. She noted as she left all six pairs of Cat’s glasses sat on her desk.

The next morning, the mauve pair was missing.

With an eye roll more dramatic than even the Queen herself managed regularly, Kara slipped down her glasses and began scanning. When she cleared the office, en suite, and balcony, she frowned in bewilderment. Treading softly toward her desk, she continued her scan of the area.

As she passed her X-ray vision along her desk, she gasped at the sight of the glasses in her bottom desk drawer. Pulling open the drawer, she realized the frames were tucked into the toiletry kit she had begun to store at the office in an effort to keep herself looking presentable after dirtier Super duties—an effort she clearly failed to remember in her haste to check in with Cat last night.

Sinking into her chair, she stared at the glasses in her hand while chewing pensively at her bottom lip.

_“Cat sees you. So now the question is, what are you going to do about it?”_

The question grew heavier every day she couldn’t answer it. The resultant silence from the hero hardened Cat’s expression and cooled her tone in ways that somehow physically hurt. Still, the CEO continued to play the game she’d started with Kara. Each evening, the hero would note the presence of all six glasses. Each morning, she would know without doubt the mauve glasses would be relocated to a place she would need to find before Cat’s arrival.

Resting atop the UFO model on Winn’s desk. Between the back paws of the pink panther statue guarding the reception desk. Dangling from the wire hanger on the back of the framed _CatCo_ magazine cover to first feature Supergirl.

Each time she found the glasses, she cleaned them and returned them to Cat’s desk. Each time Cat saw them back in line with the rest of the glasses, her demeanor grew more distant and Kara grew more despondent, more frustrated with herself for her utter lack of courage. Not even her superior strength could stop this opportunity from slipping from her grip, and she was terrified of what would happen the morning she arrived and all six pairs of glasses remained on Cat’s desk.

And then finally, she caught Cat in the act.

Rather, Supergirl caught her. As she flew her standard final evening patrol around the city, the hero felt herself list to one side at the sight she caught on the CEO’s balcony. Flying in for closer inspection, she hovered silently out of Cat’s peripheral range. She held the edges of her cape to keep them from snapping in the wind and watched as the CEO dragged one of her patio chairs over to the wall farthest from the door to her office.

Slipping off her heels, she climbed up onto the chair’s seat cushion, muttering something about poker faces and bluffing aliens that made little sense amidst the accompanying profanity the hero heard with perfect, embarrassing clarity. The sight of Cat pulling the mauve-colored pair of her reading glasses out of her jacket pocket, however, overwhelmed all else she was feeling with a stunned curiosity.

The smaller blonde rose up as high as she could on the balls of her feet and tried to tuck the glasses inside the light sconce that remained stubbornly out of reach, even under more blistering language from the CEO. With a sigh of pure irritation, Cat placed her free hand against the wall to steady herself before carefully stepping up onto the chair’s armrests.

Kara felt her hands twitch nervously at the sight, noting how close Cat was to the balcony ledge. Without a second thought, she silently floated closer without making her presence known. She watched as Cat tucked the mauve frames inside the light fixture, hissing when she accidentally grazed the side of her index finger along the hot bulb.

Blowing pointlessly on the already reddening skin, she grumbled, “Well, that fucking hurts.”

Unable to resist, Kara answered, “Perhaps you should avoid sticking your fingers in hot light fixtures.”

With a startled gasp, Cat tried to pivot, momentarily forgetting she was perched precariously on armrests rather than standing on solid ground. As her weight shifted, so did the chair beneath her, tipping unnervingly in the direction she most wanted it _not_ to tip.

Before she could even form the proper profane response, however, she felt herself lifted and stabilized against the sturdiest body she’d ever have the pleasure of feeling pressed against her. Hands instinctively wrapped around strong shoulders so when she finally re-opened her eyes, she was nearly nose-to-nose with an adorably startled Kryptonian.

Eyes glittering gold-green with mischief, she practically purred, ”And what would you suggest I stick my fingers in instead?”

Kara heard the soft huff of air that escaped Cat at the feel of her grip tightening right to the edge of human comfort. Fighting the blush she felt all the way to the tips of her ears, she relaxed her hold and forced a bravery she hoped wouldn’t sound as disingenuous as it felt. “I could think of a few suggestions you might enjoy more.”

The surprised smirk she received in response sent a thrill through Kara that tingled all the way down to her toes. “Feisty tonight, are we?” Cat ran one hand along the strong line of Kara’s shoulder, smirk deepening at the visible shiver the hero couldn’t suppress. Patting one of Kara’s biceps, she sighed, “Put me down, darling. This is far too ‘romance novel cover’ for my liking.”

“Darling?”

A perfectly arched brow rose in challenge. “What would you prefer? Snookums? Boopie, perhaps?”

Kara couldn’t stop the surprised snort of laughter at the ridiculous term. “Definitely no on that one,” she replied as she obediently set the smaller blonde down on the balcony floor.

Without her heels, the height imbalance between her and the hero clearly unsettled Cat. Turning, she collected her shoes and immediately grabbed hold of Kara’s forearm to steady herself as she slipped on her previously discarded black slingbacks. Kara stared down at the hand holding onto her, her heart instantly ticking up in the familiar rhythm it found whenever Cat touched her.

“I think I’d like it if you called me by my actual name.”

The words slipped so quietly from her lips, Cat had to pause to process them properly. With a double blink, she angled her head to one side, blonde curls slipping from her shoulder with the movement. “You’ve never told me your name, Supergirl.”

Rising to the occasion, the hero stepped close enough that there was hardly room between them for their still-linked arms. “But you know it—even if you _do_ refuse to pronounce it correctly.”

Shadows shivered along the shifting muscles in Cat’s throat. Still, she stared in silence, stubbornly challenging the hero.

Dropping her arm from Cat’s grip, she stepped completely into the smaller blonde’s personal space. She continued to move forward until she had backed Cat up against the balcony wall. Stepping forward one last time, she pressed the length of her body against Cat’s, one of her thighs slipping between the CEO’s legs. She felt the soft whimper at the contact more than she heard it.

She leaned forward until she could almost taste the whiskey, sweet and bold in every one of Cat’s breaths. Nuzzling against the softness of Cat’s neck, she nipped carefully along the curve of her ear. “Say it, Cat. Please.”

She flexed her thigh muscle as she spoke, pleased at the feel of Cat’s hips jolting forward at the unexpected move. Grasping at the hero’s shoulders once more, she gasped, “Oh, god, Kara.”

The sound of her name passing from Cat’s lips danced down her spine, eliciting a needful growl of “Again” as she pressed her thigh higher. One hand found its way behind Cat’s head, protecting it from the wall, while her other slipped up under the silk blouse she wore.

As she worked her lips along the elegant line of Cat’s throat, she let her fingers trace the slope and tease the peak of one of the smaller blonde’s breasts. “Say it again,” she repeated, the words whispered  across Cat’s  skin reverently.

“Kara.”

The hero shook, her whole body instinctively drawn closer into Cat’s gravity by the sound. Tongue now swirling into the dip of Cat’s throat, she whispered, “Please don’t stop.”

Nimble fingers slid through the hero’s tresses and pulled. The cocksure grin to light Cat’s features at the way Kara instantly complied left her breathless at the sight. “I don’t have any intention of stopping, Kara.”

Her lips quirked higher at the way the hero’s body rocked against her. “However, I also have no intention of our first time being against this wall like we’re in a bad community theater production of _Les Miserables_.”

The tension that had been gathering beneath Kara’s skin loosened with the laughter Cat’s comment inspired. Hold releasing, she stepped back slightly and allowed herself several calming breaths, pleased to see Cat needed to do the same.

Without breaking eye contact, she floated up enough so she could retrieve the glasses still setting inside the sconce.

She registered how hot the frames had gotten and so held them protectively away from Cat as she landed once more. “How much longer would you have kept hiding these?”

Slim shoulders rose with elegant nonchalance. “I’ve been told I play a fierce long game.”

The hero shook her head as she tossed the glasses onto the nearby seat cushion, amusement vivid in her cobalt gaze. “You can’t bring yourself to do anything in a normal fashion, can you?”

Flicking her fingers in a manner that denoted disgust at the suggestion, she replied, “Of course not. As a dear friend of mine likes to say, ‘Normal is not something to aspire to; it’s something to get away from.’“

She reached up and skimmed her fingers along the top of the crest on Kara’s uniform. “Besides, someone as extraordinary as you deserves far more than _normal_.”

This time, the smaller blonde was the one to step forward until their bodies pressed together. Kara stared into Cat’s intense gaze, noting the dark depths of dilated pupils. “Tell me what you need, Cat.”

Hands slid along the textured fabric covering Kara’s chest until they could link behind the hero’s neck. Pulling herself up as tall as she could stand, Cat pressed her lips against Kara’s ear. “I need you to fly us to my beach house, and then I need you to make me scream your name until even the goddamned seagulls know how to say it the right way.”

If Cat noticed the response Kara moaned was most definitely  _not_ any Earth language she had ever heard, she played it down well. All that mattered to her right then was the feel of the hero’s arms slipping around her waist, followed by their feet lifting from the balcony floor.

Something warm and strangely charged wrapped around her as they rose into the night sky—some way Kara was able to hold her safely in place. She catalogued the sensation as yet another part of the larger discussion she knew they would need to have later.

In the moment, however, she gripped one hand tightly against Kara’s back, threading the other through windblown tresses, and looped her legs around Kara’s calves. As she considered the perfect vision above her, she couldn’t help the smile she hid against Kara’s throat. Her full lips parted, warm breath swirling along the hero’s already impossibly overheated skin as she sighed, “Damn, it’s good to be Queen.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so this kind of grew from my fluff piece, Sweet for You. I even mention the line of glasses in that story. Apparently, I like to notice random things and then create elaborate head canons around them. 
> 
> I'm currently working on the next chapter of The Depth of Darkness...but I gave myself a few hours to purge this from my brain. So, here is my purge. I only read through it once, so no careful polishing or meticulous rewrites (although I ended up giving it more of "the feels" than I anticipated). Just wanted to make sure I dotted my Ts and crossed my Is. I did, however, spend the time searching for the vision quote by Jonathan Swift. Because literature nerd. 
> 
> Oh, and in this story, Cat didn't randomly threaten to fire Kara. And I know most photos of Cat's desk show her with four pairs of glasses instead of six. In my mind, this is because she's already lost two pairs, no matter what time of the day it is.


End file.
